History Will Judge
by Eira Lloyd
Summary: Gwen Cooper dies at fifty years old. She's working, inspecting alien artefacts which have been recently recovered. One minute she's dying after pressing the wrong button, the next she's waking up in her younger body, at the exact moment she found out about Torchwood. She decides to make the most of the opportunity, and try to fix her mistakes. Let History judge her a second time.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello! This idea struck me a while ago, but I just started writing it now. It's my second rewriting of the series, to be honest, but my first one without any OCs involved, mostly because... Well, I'd like to try my hand at writing stories only featuring canon characters. For those who've read my other fanfic, "Torchwood", this story will not be exactly the same. Mainly because, like the Summary said, the reader will follow Gwen throughout the entire series, as she tries to make things right. I sort of wanted to give Gwen a second chance. She's not a perfect character by any means, even if she's older and wiser, mentally. I suppose I'll let you find out for yourselves.**

 **I just wanted to write this author's note as a warning: I'm not going to be posting very often. And if I do, it won't be soon. I'm posting the prologue and the first chapter today, to see how this idea is received. I'll still be writing this story for myself, but my other stories are my priorities right now. Mainly "Torchwood". I'll let you read, and let you form your opinion on it, but, like I said, updates won't be often, if at all. Sorry about that.**

 **Disclaimer:** **I don't own** ** _Torchwood_** **or its characters, etc. I don't own the plots of the individual episodes either. That's all BBC.**

 **Spoiler alert:** **Pretty much for the entire series. I'm sorry.**

 **Prologue.**

By some miracle of life, Gwen Cooper had lived until she was fifty years old. She had joined Torchwood in the prime of her life, and she had always thought she would die young, perhaps even before her thirties, but those came fast enough. And then came the forties, and before she realised, she was fifty years old. Perhaps all those years she hadn't spent as a Torchwood employee had helped increase her life expectancy. But it wasn't just her age that had changed.

She was wiser now. She knew many of the things she had done as a young woman had been wrong, and on her own head. Her fragile relationship with Rhys had been her own fault. All those civilian casualties, they had mostly been her fault. Sometimes even hostile aliens being released had been her fault. Oh, what she wouldn't give to go back and change it all. But she had learnt long ago that time-travel was a tricky business, and it was better not to dwell on the past too much, but focus on the present and the future. But for God's sake… what present? What future? Ever since 2017, she had let Torchwood become her life again, and almost repeated the same mistakes all over again.

Except Rhys was with her this time, helping her out. Jack was long gone, in another world, doing whatever immortal men do when they're grieving. But she carried on, protecting the Earth, because someone had to. And that had to be her. The only Torchwood member standing. She had rebuilt it on her own, recruited people she thought would be up to the task, but it wasn't the same. Without Jack, without Ianto, without Owen, without Tosh, none of it was the same. It was Torchwood, yes, but it wasn't _her_ Torchwood.

Still, they made it through, and Torchwood grew. Slowly, but surely, the Torchwood Institute was rebuilt. Torchwood Cardiff was the first of many bases to follow, not just in the United Kingdom, but in the entire world. And she was the leader of it all. At times, it felt so surreal. Other times, though, she was tired. Tired of sending people to their deaths. Because this job was fun, was exciting, was the best job in the world, but it was also dangerous, lethal, and the worst job in the world. Death by Torchwood is just a fancy way of saying Killed In Action. And who had sent the recently-deceased person to that mission? Why, Gwen Cooper, of course.

She often wondered if Jack felt this way, when he still led Torchwood Three. He certainly didn't let it show. No, Jack Harkness had been a very closed-off person, and she had pushed his buttons more times than she cared to admit, not always coming up with an answer, but always coming up with an angry or tired Jack Harkness. But she had been trained to ask questions. At the time, when she was new, asking questions was the only thing that came naturally to her. The rest, she had to learn. How to shoot, how to recognise aliens, how to… how to everything. She had to learn how to approach certain aliens after failing certain first diplomatic missions. She had to learn… everything.

And now here she was, doing the one thing she never expected to do: lead the entire Torchwood Institute. Like Yvonne Hartman did, except better. Because after all those years working for Torchwood, Gwen never lost one thing: her humanity. But sometimes, oh, sometimes… she had to make hard decisions. And after what seemed to be a lifetime of losses and gains, Gwen Cooper was ready to die, to just let it all go, being wiser than what she would have ever expected. Because in the end, what was life, but a joke? A big joke on part of the universe. She had lost everything, and gained more than she could possibly think, but none of that could ever fully repair her, and replace what she had lost. But that was okay.

And now, at fifty years old, she was dying. She could feel it. Every cell of her body was disintegrating because, once again, she pushed the wrong button on the wrong alien artefact. They'd just recovered it, no one could have known. But that was okay. Despite all her knowledge, despite all those years of training, she supposed her bad habits would never go away completely. She was dying in a way that was just _so_ Gwen Cooper… she bit back a smile at the thought.

Her only regret would be her family: Rhys and Anwen. What would they think, when they found out she had died of a stupid mistake? Gwen didn't know. Gwen wasn't sure she wanted to know. She didn't want to cause them any harm, but the time had come. The brunette closed her eyes, as her cells dematerialised one by one until…

The first thing she felt was the rain. It wasn't just small drops falling on her according to a regular pattern. It felt more like a shower, really, and she had no umbrella to protect herself from the falling rain. The brunette blinked, which only surprised her more. It was nighttime, and she was surrounded by police cars and officers. When the brunette looked down on herself, she noticed she was wearing the uniform she wore back when she was a PC. Her heart started pounding, and the brunette was suddenly frightened.

She had died. She knew that. She had _felt_ it. Felt the darkness embracing her, the one Suzie had described so long ago. So why the hell was she out in the rain, wearing a PC uniform, surveilling a crime scene? This couldn't possibly be real, right? But the sound, feeling, and smell of rain was just so real and so grounding Gwen wasn't sure how to answer that. She knew time travel was possible, but she had never experienced it. How could she know she had time travelled? Was there even a way for her to find out about it? She felt fear bubbling up in her, threatening to swallow her completely and—

"Gwen?" Andy's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Wait, Andy? Her head turned sharply towards him as she inspected him. He was wearing his usual police uniform and he… he was young. He looked young again, in his late twenties. And judging by what was going on around her, she was, at the very latest, in September 2007, when she was still working for the police. Again, Gwen started to panic internally. She had thought, after so many years of working at Torchwood, she wouldn't be bothered by time travel, and she would accept it with ease… But this was not time travel. This was… life. And she was dead, she knew that, she felt it. Unless… "Gwen, are you all right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Been a rough day," the brunette answered, only to startle herself. That voice… She had a hard time recognising her own voice. Too many years had passed, she was fifty years old, for God's sake. Except she wasn't anymore, was she? No, she was in her late twenties now. Again. She shuddered.

Andy seemed to think it was because of the rain and cold. "You should've come here earlier, Gwen. You'd have ordered a coffee."

Gwen noticed the policeman who usually took the coffee orders in times like these. He had only one cup left. Gwen would've taken it, but that was something her younger self would do. At fifty years old, would she do that again? Granted, she wasn't exactly fifty anymore, but she felt old. Older than she had ever felt before. The brunette shook her head, and let the policeman walk past her, taking the coffee to its rightful destination. She didn't intercept him and steal it. No, she was far too worried about what she would do now. She wasn't even part of Torchwood, for God's sake, and she seemed to be in her younger body. What was she going to do?

Her eyes rested on the murdered young man lying on the street. The brunette had a hard time seeing clearly, what with all the rain. Oh, what she wouldn't give to be in her office, or at home, with Rhys and Anwen… She felt her stomach drop. Anwen didn't even exist by now. Her daughter, one of the two people she loved most in the world… she just didn't exist. Forget coffee, what Gwen needed right now was a strong drink. "Who is it?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady, as she focused on the murdered young man. Perhaps if she did that, then she wouldn't be thinking about her past — er, future — right now.

"Dunno. Some bloke. You going to Slimbo's on Friday?" Andy asked, as if that was more interesting than the murdered young man on the street. For a moment, Gwen stared at him. More often than not, Andy had been the one to remind her of her humanity, when she was too caught up in Torchwood and how they thought, how they acted, how they dealt with everything. And she, in turn, was who reminded the team of their humanity. And now he was distracted by something as mundane as going to Slimbo's on Friday?

"A man has just been murdered and that's what you're worried about?" she asked him, facing him, only to see a startled expression on his face. Quite right too. It's true, after seeing so many dead bodies, one might get used to them, as horrible as it sounds, but that's what made humanity so precious: it's incredibly easy to lose it.

"No, er… Gwen, are you sure you're all right?" her partner asked her. Gwen paused. No, she wasn't all right. She had time travelled and, somehow, she'd ended up in her younger self's body. After years and years of working at Torchwood, here she was. Starting all over again. Wouldn't death have been easier? Wouldn't the darkness have been preferrable to dealing with this heartbreak again? Gwen swallowed, unable to answer that question without lying — which was the last thing she wanted to do.

She didn't have to answer anything, though.

Some officers were telling SOCO to leave the scene. That caught both Andy's and her attention, and the blond soon asked another question, one Gwen could actually answer. "Aye, aye. What's happening there, then?" Just then, his radio told him SOCOs had to leave the scene. Gwen stayed put as Andy joined the other officers in evacuating everyone from the crime scene.

No, this couldn't be it, could it? This couldn't… this couldn't be happening. Of all the times where she could have been transported to, it had to be that one specific day, didn't it? The day she met Torchwood. "Bloody hell," she mumbled, as she got out of the crime scene herself. She stood aside as a black SUV made its way to the yellow tape, and a group of people she thought she would never see again appeared. She almost started crying, right then and there, but she kept her composure, her face a blank mask, one she had perfected after years of leading Torchwood.

Owen was the first one out. Gwen took a step back in fear and surprise. She felt like running and hugging him, hugging them all — except Suzie who, much to her displeasure, was still there. Seeing Tosh was worse. Not only had she died right in front of her, but her goodbye video made her cry every time she thought about it. The brunette brought a hand to cover her mouth, as she saw Jack — Jack fucking Harkness — as the leader of that fantastic team, the people who had come to be her family. God, she felt like crying and rocking backwards and forwards. What had she done to deserve this? It was curse. Seeing the very people who had died in front of her, some of then not even once, but twice. Why? Why was she brought here? All of time and space and she had to be brought to the one moment who started it all, and sent her life downhill.

"Torchwood," she whispered, as the team made its way to the body. That was… that was _her_ Torchwood. Not the one she had been leading for all these years, but the one which had welcomed her and showed her the wonders of the universe. Her beloved Torchwood, and she could finally see the team reunited again.

The first time around, she had headed off to the level five of the car park next door, to get a better view of what was going on, trying to find out what Torchwood was and what they did. But now… Now it was different. She did the exact same thing, but for different reasons. She wanted to see her Torchwood again. She wanted to see them in action, hear their voices. It wasn't a curse. she was wrong about that. It was a drug. Definitely worse than a curse. She hated it with all her being, but she couldn't stop the urge to just talk to them, see them again after all these years. It was just impossible.

Now, she was doing it again, running up the stairs and making her way through the deserted parking lot, running a lot faster than she thought she would be at this age. Then again, she was in her younger body. She wasn't sure she'd be able to run this fast at age fifty. She hadn't tried at the time. Running like this… It was refreshing, exciting, and soon, she felt it. That excitement that came with working for Jack's Torchwood, one she hadn't felt in years due to the nature of her job. Oh, how she had missed it.

She reached the edge of the parking lot, cautiously looking down at her would-be teammates. She was desperate to hear their voices once more, to see them, with all their mannerisms and what not. She so desperately wanted to see them all alive and kicking again. "There you go. I can taste it. Oestrogen. Definitely oestrogen. You take the Pill, flush it away. It enters the water cycle, feminises the fish." While Jack spoke, Suzie took out the glove and put it on. Gwen shuddered. She never wanted to see that blasted glove ever again. "Goes all the way up into the sky, then falls all the way back down on to me. Contraceptives in the rain. Love this planet. Still, at least I won't get pregnant. Never doing _that_ again. How's it going?"

"Nothing yet," Suzie answered, unable to get that feeling of access the glove gave her. Gwen had known that feeling for just an instant, and it was enough for her to never forget about it. It was electrical and tiring. Like there was electricity surging through her body, draining her of one of the most important things to her body: her life-force. At first she hadn't felt how tiring it was, running on adrenaline and what not. And then, she was too focused on trying to help Suzie to notice her own fatigued state. "It's got to connect. I've just got to feel it."

Owen, who was filming, spoke up next. "Hurry up and feel it. I'm freezing my arse off here." Gwen gasped. It had been so long since she'd heard his voice. One of her best friends in the world… Died. Twice. Oh, she remembered both his deaths very well, despite having just been told what had happened the second time 'round. Oh, how she hated it. She hated and loved the possibility she was given: to see her friends once more.

"I can't just flick a switch. It's more like access. It grants me access," Suzie explained, irritated, as usual, by Owen's behaviour and impatience. Bloody hell, Gwen was just happy to have him back alive, his negative traits included.

"Whatever that means," Owen dismissed his colleague's claims.

"It's like—" the brunette started, but soon she cut herself off, as the glove started working. "Oh, oh, oh."

"Positions," Jack ordered.

"If I get punched again, I'm punching him right back," Owen warned, and Gwen chuckled. God, how she had missed him and his sarcastic comments. After his death, the Hub had never been quite the same. She smiled sadly, as she looked upon her old friends and colleagues. It felt almost like a dream, so surreal she doubted she was living it, even after having come to terms with her situation. Rather quickly too, although that might have been because she had no choice: she woke up surrounded by policemen, in her old police uniform. She should've been dead, but she wasn't. Might as well make the most of this curse or drug, or whatever it was.

"Just concentrate. Suzie." That was the cue. The young woman had positioned herself behind the victim's head, and her right hand was now going underneath it, to give him life for a few minutes, if they were lucky. Gwen's smile disappeared, and her stony mask returned. She hated having to see this, but she couldn't look away.

The rain stopped as soon as Suzie's hand went underneath the dead man's head. The lights the police had placed around the body shone brighter, and a few seconds later, the young man gasped back to life, panicking as soon as he opened his eyes. He struggled, trying to breathe, and he started to speak in that panicked way, characteristic of everyone who's gone through a traumatic event. "There was — what was — I was, I was... Oh, my God. I was going home."

"Listen to me. We've only got two minutes so it's important that you listen, okay?" Tosh spoke, softly, but commanding. Gwen gasped again, her hand covering her mouth once more. Oh, she had been so devastated after her death, she found it hard to both keep looking at her and look away. This was Toshiko Sato, one of her best friends in the world, who had died right in front of her… And here she was. Alive and well. Gwen wanted to cry.

The victim gave her a confused look. "Who are you?"

"Trust me." The sentence she was about to say certainly didn't inspire much trust. "You're dead."

"How am I dead?" the young man demanded.

"You were stabbed," Owen informed him.

"I'm not dead. I can see you." Gwen wanted nothing more but to go down there and reassure the young man, but she knew that wouldn't happen. Jack would get her out, and it would cost Torchwood precious time to talk to the victim, despite the very clear fact he had no idea who had murdered him. But Gwen knew. She had never forgotten. Every time she glanced at Suzie, she couldn't help but glare at her. For the murders she'd committed, and for those she would commit, if the opportunity arose.

Gwen had lived long enough to know it was good to show people kindness and compassion, but some people would take advantage of that, and she had to be very careful to whom she showed those human qualities. And Suzie Costello was certainly not one to deserve compassion. At least not to the point Gwen had been willing to give her last time.

"We've brought you back, but we haven't got long. I'm sorry, but you've got to concentrate. Who did this to you? What did you see?" Toshiko insisted. It wouldn't work, they were doing it wrong. They were telling him the truth, yes, but they were going about it badly. They were too direct, and people who had just died and come back for two minutes at most didn't like to be told that. Gwen sighed. In truth, she wasn't sure what she would do in her situation. After everything she had seen, everything she had lived, she didn't know whether she would tell them the truth or go for a white lie. A white lie would calm them and give them peace and hope, but they deserved to know the truth, no matter what they had gone through.

"Why am I dead?"

There was no answer anyone could possibly give him, except for Suzie, the killer, so Tosh asked a question of her own. "Who attacked you?"

"I don't want to be dead." Gwen knew how that felt. And yet, at the same time, seeing what had happened when she had, in fact, died… Wouldn't it be better if she had died, after all? Old wounds would remain closed, and time could carry on as it should be. Gwen swallowed, trying to keep herself in check. She knew Jack was aware of where she was, and was keeping a discrete eye on her. She needed to be strong, the same way she was strong for her employees at the Torchwood she led.

"Sixty seconds," Suzie warned.

"You've got to think. Just focus on me. What was the last thing you saw?" Tosh asked, now under pressure at the reminder of how little time they had before John Tucker — Gwen finally remembered his name — returned to the shadows of death.

"I didn't see. I don't know," the young man admitted.

"Who killed you? Did you see them?" the woman of Japanese descent insisted.

"I don't know." After a tiny pause, he seemed to remember something. "There was something behind me." Of course he wouldn't have seen his killer. Suzie was too smart to let herself be seen once, let alone twice. She always positioned herself behind them to kill them, and then she positioned herself behind their heads so they would never see her properly. And they were too focused on Toshiko, who was asking them questions, to care about who was holding their heads.

"Police said one stab wound in the back," Owen informed them. Perhaps they should've started with that, instead of bothering to bring back someone who hadn't seen their killer. Then, perhaps, Suzie wouldn't have to keep murdering people like she did, just to continue her research on the glove.

"So you didn't see anything," Tosh told the victim, just to confirm the facts.

"No." There was a small pause, during which the team exchanged looks, unsure of what to do next. That uncertainty was shared by John Tucker, who asked, "What happens now?"

"Thirty seconds," Suzie warned, again.

"But he didn't see anyone." Clearly, Toshiko was at loss. She had no idea what to do know. She was an expert at faking deaths, to protect Torchwood half-secrecy — thank you, Owen Harper — but when it came to simply being human… Wasn't this why Jack had hired her in the first place? In the end, though, Gwen had forgotten that part of her job. Torchwood had become her life. Even her death had been very Torchwood. Death by Torchwood. She thought she would die in a mission, perhaps capturing a rogue Weevil or something. But no. It was by pressing the wrong button on an alien artefact. How brilliant was that?

"Don't waste it," Suzie told her.

"What else do I say?" the tech genius asked Jack and Owen. The former crouched in front of the dying victim, a clear thought in his mind.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"John. John Tucker," the young man answered.

"Okay, John. Not long now."

"Who are you?" Tucker demanded.

"Captain Jack Harkness." Oh yes. "Tell me, what was it like when you died? What did you see?" The young man didn't answer. "John, tell me what you saw," Jack insisted. Of course Jack would want to know. Despite all the times he'd died, he never really stayed, did he? So, of course, he wanted to know what death was like. Because he didn't really remember what it was. He remembered dying, and then waking up. But that was it. He had told her once. And it certainly explained his question to poor John Tucker.

"Ten seconds," Suzie counted down.

"Nothing. I saw nothing. Oh, my God. There's nothing." With those last words, John Tucker returned to the shadows of death, all alone. Gwen swallowed. She had never thought she would see this again. His death was simple. He exhaled one last time, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he lost consciousness… for good. Those words panicked her. If there was nothing, then why the hell was she here, watching her fallen comrades, the very first time she saw them? Why was the universe doing this to her?

It started raining once more, but the brunette barely noticed it. "Shit. I said it was stupid, telling him he was dead," Owen commented, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"Well, you try it," Tosh shot back as she got back up.

"'Trust me', like that's gonna work!" Owen stood up as well. Gwen was reluctant to admit he was right. There was no way he would trust her if she told him he was dead. But what else could Tosh have done at the time? She wasn't an expert at talking to people who'd recently died. Wasn't this just the third murder? Dear God… She had scolded Andy for not thinking about the dead man, and here she was, talking about it as if it was something simple, of little importance? Another thing she realised at her age was how hypocritical she could be at times. And clearly, that included now that she was young again. Gwen took a deep breath, focusing back on her old friends.

"Told the last corpse he was injured, he wasted the whole two minutes screaming for an ambulance. Maybe there's no right way of doing it." Jack looked up just then, looking at her right in the eyes. "What do you think?" he shouted, loud enough so she would hear him over the sound of the pouring rain. At first, she was frozen in fright. Next, she wanted to run off. But she wouldn't do that again. No, she knew that look. He was challenging her, sizing her up. He wanted to see how she would react. _Well, Jack,_ Gwen thought, _challenge accepted._

"Bringing people back from the dead is wrong. Of course there is no right way of doing it," Gwen shouted back, well aware the rest of the team had laid eyes on her the moment Jack shouted his question. Before he could answer, Gwen ran away, like last time. Jack was planning this whole little game down to the smallest detail. But Gwen knew exactly what he was doing, and she knew better. Suddenly, instead of feeling old, older than everything around her, she felt young. She felt she had been given a chance to fix her mistakes, and do the right thing. Only a fool would reject that opportunity.

 _Whatever you're planning, Jack, I'm ready,_ she thought to herself as she ran back to the police station. _Bring it on._


	2. Everything Changes

**Chapter 1: Everything Changes.**

Gwen had taken her time at the police station. She could have changed clothes in less than two minutes, but she dreaded going back home. On one hand, she wanted to see Rhys, her husband, again. But… they'd changed. He was younger. She was older. He still had that naïve mentality of his, which had slowly changed once he'd realised what Torchwood was like, once the amazement had worn off. She was vigilant, bordering on paranoid. What if they were too different now? What if they just couldn't love this other version of each other? She loved her Rhys dearly, he was one of the most important people in her life. If that would change, she just couldn't bear it.

Another reason of why she didn't want to go home was Anwen, their daughter. She didn't exist here. They weren't even married. Gwen simply didn't know how to go back to the dynamic they had back then. So she took her time. She showered at the police station, then changed into her civilian clothes as slowly as she would allow herself. She chatted with her coworkers a bit, before, reluctantly, returning home. But once she arrived at the door she froze. Could she do it? She didn't want to test her theories. Not now, not ever. But she had to, didn't she? With a sigh, she opened the door before she could change her mind. She left her soaking umbrella at the entrance, cautiously entering that flat which she had left long ago.

"You still up?" she called, well aware of the soft sound of the telly in their living room.

"In here," Rhys called back, and she couldn't help the small smile that plastered itself on her face. "They said on the news, murder in the city centre. Were you there?" he asked as she approached him. She kissed his forehead, sitting on the couch next to him.

"I was called in, yeah. But Torchwood arrived. They evicted us from the premises," she informed her would-be husband. The first time 'round, she had lied about it. Now, she simply didn't see the point. Of course, she had been freaked out, back then, and she had wanted to protect him, in her own twisted way. But now she knew: the only way to protect him would be to tell him the truth, so he would be aware of the dangers he would eventually be in. She wasn't sure when she would tell him about Torchwood, but she would tell him eventually. Hopefully, sooner than the first time around.

"Torchwood? What's that, special ops?" Rhys asked, slightly confused.

Gwen nodded. "Yeah. How come you're still up, though?" Rhys had never been a night owl kind of person. And it was midnight. She hadn't fully cared about his answer the first time. It was simply a bit of trivial curiosity that was solved quick enough. Nothing like Torchwood. But if she indeed _had_ travelled back in time, then she would be making the most of it.

"Banana Boat came 'round. He was saying he's got plans. He's off again next summer," her boyfriend explained.

"Banana Boat came 'round and you're not pissed?" she asked him, a teasing smile on her face. "Must be the end of the world."

Rhys laughed. "No, we had a cup of tea. He's read this thing about diabetes. Me and him having tea. That's middle age, that is." Gwen looked down when he said that. She was middle aged after all, wasn't she? One look at her situation and no. She wasn't middle aged at all, not anymore. It was hard to keep remembering that little fact. When she'd seen herself in the mirror at the police station, she had stared at her reflection for a good ten minutes. Coming to terms with the idea of time travel was one thing but the reality of it was quite different. "There's some Chinese in the fridge."

"Thanks, love," she told him. She was exhausted, but she was also starving. She heated up the leftovers in the microwave quickly enough, before she joined Rhys on the couch. He was watching one of those dramas he used to watch — hell, he still watched them in her own present. For a good chunk of her life, Gwen had thought him obsessed with those. Well, she'd been partially right. "So, mind filling me in?" she asked him once she sat back down on the couch with the Chinese leftovers.

"This man's found his sister," Rhys started.

They watched telly until the end of the episode, and by then, Gwen had finished eating the leftovers. Being with Rhys was easier than she thought. She had panicked too much at first, pondering on what ifs, but the reality of it was different. He was still the same Rhys she had loved for her entire life, and that wouldn't change just because she travelled back in time. They went to bed after that, although Gwen had a hard time sleeping.

The first time, it had been because she'd continued to ponder what Torchwood could possibly be, and how come they had so many resources and weird artefacts, like that glove. But now that Gwen knew, she should have been able to sleep well. Except that, now that she had nothing to do, she kept pondering on what had happened to her: she had returned to the past. She was slowly coming to terms with the reality of it, but she wanted answers. How had it happened? It couldn't possibly have been the Rift, it had been closed, long ago, in March 2010. Well, it was open now, but that was hardly the point. It didn't explain how her consciousness had travelled from a time where there was no Space-Time Rift in Cardiff, to at time where it was. Perhaps it was the alien artefact she touched? But no… That couldn't have been it. Gwen had gone through teleportation before. And it was nothing like that. It didn't feel like dying. It didn't feel like every cell in your body was disintegrating. So what could it possibly be?

The Doctor had mentioned the Rift and her family had a special thing going on, starting with her appearance, which apparently was exactly like one of her distant family members from the 19th Century. Perhaps the Rift energy in her, despite its closure, had activated upon her disintegration? But if it activated with death, then why hadn't it worked for Ianto? Or had his family not been living in Cardiff for as long as hers?

Those thoughts haunted Gwen throughout the entire night, and by the time the sun rose, the young woman had not slept one bit.

* * *

At the police station, next day, Gwen brought drinks to the detectives working on the Torchwood-related case. Not that they knew how deep Torchwood's ties with these victims were. Most of the organisation itself had no idea how deep those ties ran. Only Suzie. The young woman put on a blank mask, as she handed each cup of coffee to everyone — was this what Ianto felt like, most of the time? — and stood back, letting the other detectives speak.

"Sarah Pallister, seventy-two, murdered in her front room. Rani Ghosh, forty-five, murdered in Robintree Alley. And now John Tucker, nineteen, murdered in Llangyfelach Lane. So far, there's absolutely nothing linking these three victims, apart from the way they died. As far as we can tell, all with the same weapon. A blade approximately eight inches long, three inches deep."

"The women were stabbed from the front, but John Tucker was stabbed from behind. What does that tell us about the killer?" another officer asked.

"That he's a coward," the Detective Inspector answered. _A smart coward, though. Always with a backup plan in case something fails,_ Gwen thought, remembering Suzie's plan B very well.

* * *

Andy and Gwen drove off to a pub, where a huge fight was going on. The entire pub seemed to be involved in the fight, which just made it even more complicated for two coppers to break it off. Andy did it quite easily. Gwen as well, although without her Torchwood training, the brunette would have hit her head against a pillar, and ended up with a concussion. She had the first time around, but she had faced far worse than angry drinkers during her long tenure as a Torchwood agent.

The first thing she did was to pull a man in a grey shirt away from one in a yellow shirt. Gwen pulled him back with surprising ease at first, but he simply jumped at her. The brunette kneed him in the stomach and forced him to sit down. Then she pulled the man in the yellow shirt away from another bloke. "Break it off, you lot." If she had to injure or knock out all these idiots, she would do it, much to the displeasure of her partner. It didn't come to that, though. She pushed the man in yellow back enough, and he launched at her, but she simply side-stepped him and he knocked himself against a pillar. Then, when she got the next person off, he noticed the two unconscious and injured men and calmed down immediately, not wanting to end up unconscious or injured like them.

Once the fight had stopped, and it was all dealt with, Andy and Gwen returned to the police car. They were about to return to the station when Gwen chipped in, "Hey d'you mind if we go to the Royal Infirmary?"

"Did you get hit? Are you all right?" he asked her, and Gwen nodded.

"I'm fine. I didn't get hit. I just… I have a hunch, that's all." Andy analysed her, before starting the car, agreeing with her request. He stopped the car in front of the hospital, and Gwen got out. "You can go back to the station, if you want. I can walk," she told him through the open window.

"Don't be silly, Gwen, I'll wait for you here."

"Right. Just stay in the car, yeah? We don't want _you_ getting hurt," she joked. "Or someone stealing the car." They'd done that enough times with Torchwood's SUV, even though it had a triple deadlock. The best technology in the world couldn't stop petty car thieves from breaking into the SUV. It had made Gwen laugh several times — when she wasn't in a life or death crisis, that is.

The young woman took a deep breath as she went inside. She knew she would be facing a Weevil, but she had nothing. No anti-Weevil spray, no gun to knock it unconscious, nothing. She still had her Torchwood training, though. That had to count for something. The brunette made her way to the sealed off section of the hospital with ease, especially since she saw Jack running about in that military coat of his. _Nice giveaway. Always remained your thing,_ Gwen thought as she followed him to the exact section where she wanted to go.

Before she went in, though, she noticed a porter on the lower floor. Gwen called out to him, "Excuse me, sir. Sorry. You may have noticed, it's all sealed off up here. Would you mind making sure no one goes up, under any circumstance? It's a life or death situation."

"'Course, yeah. No problem."

"Thank you, sir." He had been killed the first time because she hadn't thought things through. It was sealed off for a reason, but she had never guessed Weevils were the reason. She hardly knew what Weevils were at the time. But now she did, and she wanted to make sure no one died because of her. That being done, the young woman entered the area, completely alert. The corridor was completely deserted, just as she remembered. The lights were on, tinting the room in that yellow-ish colour which was just unpleasant for the eyes. There was a small window at the end of the corridor, but the daylight was nothing compared to the artificial yellow light.

Gwen walked through the corridor slowly, on her guard. She was well aware she had no weapons on her and that she was not immortal, but this had been an important turning point in her investigation of Torchwood in her first life, and it just felt wrong not to go through with it during her second one. Soon enough, the Weevil came out of a room. _Is this Janet? When did they get Janet again?_ the brunette wondered, recalling the Weevil Jack had named. It was either Janet or Barbara, but he had prefered the former, because "Barbara never seemed right". Neither of those were Gwen's favourite names, and she jokingly pitied Janet the Weevil because of it.

The brunette shook her head. This was not the time to reminisce about the past — well, the future. She was here to see the team in action, and not get killed by Janet, or whatever its name was — would be. Blimey, this timey-wimey stuff was confusing. The young woman checked what she had with her. Her radio and a torch. Not very useful when fighting a Weevil. She knew Weevils didn't like high-pitched noises, but unless someone communicated through the radio, none would be available. Hell, _even_ if someone communicated through the radio, it wouldn't be enough to affect the Weevil.

God, she felt like an idiot, just standing there.

The Weevil hadn't noticed her just yet, and Gwen approached it slowly. She knew the Torchwood team was nearby, and they would be waiting for the right moment to spray it and bag it, and take it back to the Hub. Maybe the young woman could distract it, while they did it? It also meant she had to be careful with what she said. They didn't trust her, and if she started saying she knew what would happen in all their futures… That was not a good idea.

"Hello," Gwen spoke up, softly, as if talking to someone in shock. The Weevil turned to her, but didn't move. Good, it wasn't quite rogue yet. Well, until it tried to bite her head off, that is. "This area's sealed off, you shouldn't be here. Unless they sealed it off _because_ of you, that is." She didn't move, staying a few metres away from the could-be vicious creature. She was "thinking" aloud, trying to keep the Weevil calm with her soothing voice. "I'm looking for Torchwood. You wouldn't happen to have seen them, would you? Those buggers are hard to find." No answer, but she expected that. She felt like she was talking to herself, which wasn't such a good feeling. "Their leader is even harder to investigate. The last Captain Jack Harkness disappeared in the middle of the London Blitz in 1941. D'you know where they are?" She hadn't asked her colleague Yvonne to look it up, she didn't need to. "I'm going to ask you one last time," she made a step back, ready to run out of the room if she needed to, "do you know where Torchwood are?"

As if on cue, they appeared. Jack ran out first, and the sudden movement didn't please the Weevil. As the rest of the team sedated him, Gwen started moving away, her eyes still sort of fixed as she watched them subdue the Weevil with team work and spray. Except Jack grabbed her arm and started pulling her along, ordering her to leg it. She didn't answer, and let herself be shoved out of the sealed area. Once that was done, she slowly made her way down, and joined Andy in the police car, knowing the SUV would rush out at any moment.

"Did you find anything?" her partner asked her.

"I found enough," she answered him, reluctant to give away more details of her investigation.

"Come on, Gwen, I'm your partner. What are you investigating anyway?" he asked her.

Well, that she could answer, at least. "That Special Ops group from yesterday — Torchwood."

"Right. Good luck with that." He drove off, at the same time the SUV sped past them, almost colliding with them by mistake. _Owen's driving, as usual,_ Gwen recognised. "Oi!" Andy yelled, speeding up, trying to catch up with them.

"Don't bother, Andy. That's them, Torchwood. They consider themselves as 'outside the government' and 'beyond the police'." She had never forgotten Jack's introduction of the organisation, and she doubted she ever would. Especially if she was bound to relive it tonight.

"You want me to chase 'em?" her partner asked, trying to keep the car in his line of sight.

"No need. I know where they're going. We better head back to the station," the brunette told her friend. Andy reluctantly agreed, and slowed down. When they reached the police station, Gwen called her boyfriend, reminding him she wouldn't come home for dinner, 'cos she had an extra shift. She couldn't very well tell him she was investigating Torchwood — at least not yet. She wasn't a detective. Andy let it go because he knew her, he knew how curious she was and how she had a hard time letting things go if she didn't have an answer to her questions. And quite right too. But now she wasn't looking for questions. She was looking for something she had lost a long time ago: the best friends she had had in her entire life.

* * *

At the end of the day, when the sun had gone down, the young woman changed into her civilian clothes and wandered around the city. She phoned Jubilee Pizza and asked for two pizzas, one of them being meat feast — she knew how much Owen loved that one. She picked them up and by the time she arrived at the Tourist Information Centre, Torchwood's façade, it was eight thirty-five, just like in the original timeline. She entered without knocking. There was no one around, but she knew Ianto would appear at any moment now.

"Is anybody here?" she asked, letting her eyes wander around the place. It had been so long since the last time she saw this place… Ianto, wearing a suit, as usual, stepped past the beaded curtains, and entered her field of vision, a cup of coffee in his hand. Oh, how she had missed him! And his coffee, of course. She had already seen the entire team, but there was one person who she missed dearly and hadn't seen ever since she woke up back in her younger body. She hid her emotions behind her blank mask, but inside, she was ecstatic. Her team was alive. Her Torchwood was alive. They were all fine, perhaps a bit overworked and all, but… They were alive. And she could see and talk to them again. _Focus, Gwen,_ the young woman scolded herself. "Hello, sorry. Somebody ordered pizza."

"Who's it for?" Ianto asked lightly. His very first words since… It had been so long ago. His death. Gwen did her best not to gasp, like she'd done with Toshiko and Owen. Instead, she faked a smile.

"Why, Torchwood, who else?"

Good thing she had thought to close the door behind her this time. Otherwise, it would have slammed shut when Ianto pressed the hidden button. Part of the wall slid aside, revealing the hidden entrance. Her heart was pounding. She hadn't been here for so long… Ianto misunderstood her staring, and probably thought she was surprised and slightly scared of what was going on. But no, this, for her, was like coming home. "Don't keep them waiting," he told her, a small smile on his face. _He's enjoying it, the bastard,_ Gwen thought, with joking resent. _Wonder if Owen will start laughing almost immediately, like last time_. A tight smile to Ianto, and Gwen headed down the corridor, at first with hesitant steps, but soon she found the confidence she had been lacking.

This was her home. Brand new Gwen Cooper, same old Torchwood. _I'm back,_ the brunette thought, with a smile.

She went down the lift, not bothering to look around her. It was an old piece of metal, and its humming was reassuring. It reminded her of good old times. Once again, she felt younger than she really was. Well, if Jack could do it, and pretend to be younger than he was, then so could she. The door to the lift opened, and the cogwheel was in front of her. Gwen tried her best not to grin at the sight.

Further away from the cogwheel was Tosh's workstation. The young woman was wearing a purple top, and seemed very focused on what she was working. Gwen knew it was all pretend, and she couldn't help but to smile inwardly. It felt good to come home.

She couldn't help but be amazed by the sight of the long-lost Hub. She was even glad to see the Doctor's hand in its usual encasing. Gwen had to bite back her smile, though, and ignore her fond memories. It was hard. Everything was so amazing, and so surreal. She could see the armoury from the entrance as well. Behind her, the cogwheel returned to its place and a metal grill shut behind her. Gwen didn't pay any attention to it, as she admired her surroundings. How she had missed this place.

Suzie was working on God knows what. Gwen had never really understood Suzie's purpose in Torchwood. She hadn't been there long enough to find out. And afterwards… Well, at first it was too painful for them to talk about their fallen friend. And then, it just never came up. By then, Gwen was her own agent, and she was too busy dealing with current situations to worry about her predecessors. Not that her curiosity had completely faded. It was just one of those things, she supposed. Things that one remembered at the wrong time and never came up when the timing could've been right. Jack was walking along on the upper catwalk. Suzie stopped tinkering, and took off the helmet that covered her face. Jack descended through the stairs that ended right in front of her, and continued on his way as though he hadn't even seen her.

Throwing a careful glance in Suzie's direction, Gwen made her way up and towards Jack's office. Logically, he was the leader and thus, he would be paying for the pizzas. (Actually, she'd wasted part of her small pay in these two pizzas, because she hoped she might be recruited just like last time, and then these would be nothing compared to the big pay-check she would receive every month. Torchwood paid well. And, considering the life-expectancy that came with this job, if it had a crappy pay, then no one would work here.) Tosh pretended to be working on four computer screens at once, but one glance at each of those screens and Gwen knew she wasn't working. Not that she would've said. It would've ruined the nice show they were putting up, just for her.

Owen was looking through a microscope. But soon, he scoffed, and Tosh started laughing, and the medic joined in. Gwen did her best not to laugh along. Owen turned around in his chair. "I can't do this. I'm sorry. I'm rubbish. I give up."

"He set me off!" Tosh blamed him immediately.

"Well, that lasted nought point two seconds," Suzie commented, taking off her gloves.

"You were putting up a show, just for me? How flattering," Gwen told them, adjusting her grip on the two pizza boxes, which were the centre of Owen's attention.

"Hmm. She's actually carrying pizza."

Jack stood up from his chair and leant agains the door of his office. "Come on. She was gonna say 'Here's your pizza', and I was going to say, 'How much?' And she says, 'Oh, whatever, twenty quid', and I say, 'Ooo, I don't have any money'. I was working on a punchline. I'd have got there. But it would've been good."

"At least I'm not wearing the deliverer's uniform," Gwen commented, mostly to herself. "You might want to do something about the person who orders pizza under the name of Torchwood. The pizza bloke didn't even have to check the database to know you were regulars."

Jack rolled his eyes and looked pointedly at Owen. Well, who else would it be? Ianto, Tosh and Suzie were too careful for that. "Who the hell orders pizza under the name of Torchwood?"

"That'd be me. Sorry, I'm a twat," Owen replied, being his usual self. God, she had missed this.

"How did you find us?" Suzie asked. "You didn't follow us, you never even set foot here before tonight." Oh, she was suspicious. Then again, Gwen couldn't tell them the truth. As if they would believe her if she said, 'I know where Torchwood is and what you do because I used to work here in my first life, except I got transported back into the body of my younger self when I died and now I have to do it all over again'.

"I have my ways," she answered, mysteriously. Was this how Jack felt all the time, when covering up for his immortality? Not that her secret was remotely close to his but still. She turned towards the former time traveller. "I saw you last night, with John Tucker."

"And what did you see?" Jack asked.

This time, Gwen knew the correct answer to his question. "You brought him back to life."

"Yeah."

There was a small silence, during which no one knew what to say. Gwen hated having to go through this again, but she knew it would be suspicious if she just learnt everything about the organisation overnight. Which meant she had to do one of the best things she knew how to do: ask questions. "So, this is Torchwood?" she asked.

Jack nodded. "All around you."

"What was that creature from earlier, at the hospital?" she continued. She didn't like asking questions she already knew the answer to, but she had to do anything in her power to remain "normal". She didn't want them on their guard around her. Well, Suzie already was, but considering the police was looking for her — not that they knew it —, it was only normal. She _was_ a PC, after all.

"Do you want to come see?" Jack asked, and she nodded. The immortal man grinned, and she left the pizza boxes aside as she followed him through the Hub. Myfanwy screeched over her head, and Gwen couldn't help but gasp. She hadn't seen her ever since the Hub blew up. Gwen put on a blank mask again, tuning out Jack's call, and following him quickly. They arrived at the cells, in which lived the Weevil from earlier. It was sitting on the ground, sneering. Gwen was frozen in place, well aware she had nothing to defend herself with, until she calmed herself down. The doors of the cells were pretty solid. For the Weevil to escape, it would require an inside job. "It's all right, it's safe. It's sedated. It's called a Weevil. Or at least, we call them Weevils. We don't know their real name because they're not too good at communicating. But we've got a couple of hundred of them in the city living in the sewers, feeding off the — well, it's the sewers. You can guess. But every once in a while, one of them goes rogue, comes to the surface, attacks. Actually, it's been happening more and more and we have no idea why. But it's alien. Look into its eyes."

Gwen slowly nodded, not taking her eyes off the Weevil. "I believe you. I always thought we couldn't possibly be the only living species in the universe." Well, that was a lie. But you know, she couldn't just act shocked. It was just a Weevil. Oh, the countless times she had run around Cardiff, trying to catch one of those little bastards. "Does this one have a name?" she asked him.

"I was thinking Janet. It was either that or Barbara, and Barbara just never seemed right," Jack answered, a smirk on his face. Gwen rolled her eyes. Of course, the Weevil that almost attacked her had to be Janet. Who else would it be.

"Well, hello Janet. Hope these ones aren't giving you much of a headache. I'm sure they're the reason everyone at SOCO goes mad," the brunette joked. The immortal man just laughed.

"If you're ready, we can go meet the rest of the team," he told her. Gwen agreed, and soon, they were up, and away from Janet. They returned to the main area of the Hub, where Jack started the introductions. Gwen didn't need to be introduced to them, but she had no choice. Those were the cons of reliving her life. She knew exactly who they were, but they didn't know a single thing about her, and she couldn't act as though they were old friends — which is what they were for her. "Owen Harper, Gwen Cooper," Jack introduced.

" _Doctor_ Owen Harper, thank you," the medic corrected him.

Jack ignored him and continued, "Toshiko Sato, computer genius. Suzie Costello, she's second in command. And this is Ianto Jones. Ianto cleans up after us and gets us everywhere on time."

"I try my best," Ianto replied.

"And he looks good in a suit," the immortal man added.

"Careful. That's harassment, sir." Gwen smiled inwardly. She had been so jealous of Ianto Jones back then, despite her friendship with the man. But now… well, now she was over her schoolgirl crush on Jack, and was fully devoted to her husband — well, would-be husband — Rhys. Now, she could finally be happy for the two of them, even if it would take a while for it to happen properly.

Gwen looked at each of her future co-workers and Suzie carefully, before turning to Jack once more. "What will happen now? I've seen your place of work, I know all your names, I've seen your pets: the pterodactyl and the Weevil. And not counting Jubilee Pizza, you mustn't be a very public organisation." She knew perfectly well what they would do: Retcon her. But it wouldn't matter. They wouldn't erase enough memories. She would remember everything. Maybe she would be shocked at waking up one morning in her old flat, at twenty-six, but that would be enough to make the Retcon go away.

"What do you imagine?" Jack asked her.

"You'll either make me forget, or kill me. Although the first option's only possible if you have some sort of amnesia pill. Then again, you keep a pteranodon as a pet. Anything's possible in Torchwood, I gather?" As she spoke, Jack entered his office, put his jacket on, and came back out. Gwen knew what was happening. He would send them home, and they would go for a pint, where he would Retcon her, thinking it would work.

Jack's orders confirmed her theory. "Okay. Tosh, finish that calibration tomorrow morning. Owen, first thing, get a hold of Chandler and Bell, 'cos I think they're lying. Ianto, if he needs back up, then you'd better be on stand by. Suzie, I know it's a pain in the ass, but I need the costing on the glove research. And as for you, you're coming with me. This way." Gwen followed him diligently, already knowing he wanted to "impress" her with the lift. Unfortunately for her, her base in the future didn't have an invisible lift. It was useful when impressing possible recruits. The immortal stood on a slab of granite. "Stand on here. Come on, next to me." She positioned herself easily, having done this plenty of times back in her day. "Now, you came in through the front door. Let's take the scenic route." After pressing a few buttons on his Vortex Manipulator, they went up.

The first time, Gwen had had to cling to his arm to keep her balance. But she had done this so many times before, she didn't need to, and she took advantage of the scenic route to admire the Hub she had missed almost as much as her colleagues. Of course, as long as she had Tosh, Owen, Ianto and Jack with her, it didn't really matter where their base of operations was. Still, the sight of the Hub was breathtaking, after nineteen years lacking this view. She didn't notice Suzie waving them off. She was too busy, and she couldn't care less about the young woman at the moment.

When they came up, no one noticed them, because of the perception filter. She had learnt after she started working that the perception filter also gave the passers-by the unconscious idea not to step on that specific slab of granite. That was why they didn't fall through the hole in the ground whenever the lift was being used. "Look at that, people as blind as always," Gwen muttered, mostly to herself. To be honest, she hadn't expected anyone to notice them going up. The lift had always done its job correctly, and it wouldn't fail her now.

Jack overheard her and started explaining what it was. "It's called a perception filter. They can sort of see us, but we don't quite register. Just like something in the corner of your eye. It only works on this exact spot. Step off." He did so, and addressed a random woman walking down the street. "Hi! Nice night." The woman gave him a suspicious look, clearly qualifying him as a creep, before walking on, slightly faster this time. Gwen chuckled. _And here I thought Jack's charm wasn't infallible._

"Do try not to scare the passers-by by talking to them randomly," she replied, getting off the granite slab. "I suppose your perception filter also makes them stay clear of it. Otherwise, nothing would stop them from falling through that bloody big hole in the ground when the lift is being used."

Jack rolled his eyes. "That is so Welsh!"

Having forgotten what he meant when he said it the first time around, Gwen was quick to ask, "What is?"

"I show you something fantastic. You find fault," he accused her. She laughed.

* * *

Just as expected, he took her to a pub. He ordered a glass of water, and she ordered a pint, just like the first she lived through this. She knew well enough that Jack would put Redcon in it, but she didn't really care. He had no idea he wouldn't be able to take all her memories of Torchwood away. He would need enough Retcon to wipe more than twenty years of her memory, and if he dared, and she happened to remember one day, she would never forgive him. Never mind forgetting about Torchwood, but her marriage to Rhys and their daughter Anwen? She missed the latter so much, she couldn't bear the thought of forgetting her.

Gwen shook those thoughts out her head and started drinking her Retcon-infected pint. "Is that what you do, then? Just, catch aliens. You're either very efficient when it comes to it, or there aren't many aliens coming down to Cardiff in the first place," she joked.

Jack chuckled. "We don't just catch aliens. We scavenge the stuff they leave behind. Find ways of using it. Arming the human race for the future. The twenty first century's when it all changes, and you gotta be ready." Ah, yes, what an iconic line. Jack always loved to be dramatic, after all. For starters, that coat of his was quite dramatic. And he had the nerve to tell _her_ not to be so dramatic, when she first found out he'd slipped something in her drink.

"And who's in charge of you? The government, the Queen, or what?" she asked, taking another sip of her drink.

"We're separate from the government, outside the police, beyond the United Nations. 'Cos if one power got hold of this stuff, they could use it for their own purposes."

"Maybe if the public got their hands on that alien tech, we might finally win an Eurovision contest," Gwen joked. "But what do _you_ do with all the alien technology you gather? Don't you use it for your own purposes? Or do you lock it up to never be used?"

"All alien technology stays on the base. No one's allowed to take anything outside," Jack informed her. Of course he would say that. He didn't know about Suzie, Toshiko and Owen taking out alien objects for their own purposes — in Owen's case, this probably meant improving his sex life. Tosh and Owen's use of the objects might be somewhat harmless, but Suzie's… Well, her only consolation was that it would never happen again, not after tomorrow. If she managed to do everything right, that is.

"All right. But why are you in Cardiff? I would think you'd pick London. They're the ones meeting aliens every Christmas." She slipped without meaning to. Back in her time, it had been a recurring joke: London attacked by aliens every Christmas. Gwen quickly took another sip of her beer, trying to act as though she hadn't said anything out-of-place, but her insides were churning. She needed to get her guard back up. Despite asking questions to which she already knew the answers, and Jack analysing her, looking at her as though she was but a stranger, she felt like she was simply catching up with an old mate. She was lowering her guard and her defences, which meant she might let something else slip, like Suzie being a killer, or Ianto, Tosh and Owen dying. And Jack leaving the Earth for good. And let's not even _think_ about the Miracle…

Fortunately, Jack didn't seem to have noticed. And even if he did, he didn't mention anything. "This is Torchwood Three. Torchwood One was London, destroyed in the battle of Canary Wharf. Torchwood Two is an office in Glasgow. A very strange man. Torchwood Three, Cardiff. Torchwood Four's kinda gone missing, but we'll find it one day," he joked. Gwen snorted. As far as she was concerned, rebuilding Torchwood Four in Belfast had been a priority when she was rebuilding the entire organisation. They never found the original one, anywhere. Not in Dublin, or any part of Ireland. Not in Europe, and certainly not in the rest of the world.

"Right. And what's so important about Cardiff? Like I said, there can't be many aliens coming to Cardiff in the first place."

"There's a rift in space and time running right through the city. The Weevils didn't come in a spaceship. They kinda just slipped through. All sorts of things get washed up here. Creatures, time-shifts, space junk, debris. Flotsam and jetsam," Jack explained. Gwen nodded, doing her best to look thoughtful as she drank a little bit more.

"Sounds like Cardiff, yeah," she commented, mostly to herself.

Of course, Jack took it upon himself to defend the city. "Hey, hey, hey. Don't knock it. I'm a citizen." Again, Gwen snorted. She pondered on what she should say next. Should she still defend the police, and propose a liaison? She had to get into Torchwood somehow, and that had worked well the first time. Unless… Did she really want to spend her second life at Torchwood? She could capture Suzie, arrest her, and move her way through the ranks of the South Wales police. Did she really want to spend her second life chasing aliens?

That's when she remembered: Jack, Tosh, Owen and Ianto. They were her family. This was _her_ Torchwood. That place had become a second home to her. Did she really want to throw it all away, simply to have an idea of how things could have been, if she hadn't joined the organisation? She drank a little bit more. It was no question, really. Of course she wanted to stay in Torchwood. And she figured that, to get the offer in the following couple of days, going about it the same way she had the first time would work. "Thing is, we could liaise on this. The serial killer. I could be like your liaison with the police."

Just as expected, Jack refused. "Right, I can see the mistake. You think because we showed up at the scene of crime, we're out to catch the killer. Sorry. Nothing to do with us." Gwen gave him a sceptic look.

"Then what were you doing there?"

"Testing the glove. We need murder victims, simple as that. The glove only works on the recently deceased, and the more violent the trauma, the stronger the resurrection. All we need is fresh meat." That sounded wrong. As if they didn't care about the victim at all. A long time ago, Gwen had thought of Jack as heartless, but she soon figured out things were much more complicated than they looked. But she had taken too long in figuring out. By the time the truth had become clear to her, she was rebuilding Torchwood in 2017. Jack and the rest of the team weren't heartless, and they were still human. They were simply much more blunt, and logical than others, to the point where they seemed cold. But they cared. Of course they did. Gwen had been so bloody blind.

"No, you were asking that man, John Tucker. I saw you. You were asking him about his killer."

"He'd just been murdered, what else are you gonna ask?" Jack did have a point. Plus, if they'd figured it out, they probably would have told the police, or taken care of the murderer themselves. Of course, Suzie was too smart to let herself be recognised. Gwen left her drink aside, knowing she had to play the part, and try to convince him her idea was good.

"You could get an ID. You could help."

"We're busy," Jack stated. It had that tone he used when he wanted to end an argument. But Gwen had never been the type to give up easily, and she wouldn't start now, even if she didn't quite agree with what she was proposing.

"And your work is more important," she replied, her words dripping sarcasm.

"Now you got it."

Gwen resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Well, that's tough shit. 'Cos if you let me go, then I have a duty. I can tell them what you've got, 'cos that glove could help us," she warned him, her voice stronger than it had been the first time 'round. She had years of work experience and was confident in her abilities. She wanted to make sure Jack believed she would follow through with her threat, even though now she wouldn't even consider it.

"I thought you said bringing people back from the dead was wrong." When she didn't reply, Jack added, "You can only do that if you remember." At her confused look, he added, "How's your drink?"

Gwen glanced at the pint, hoping her acting skills were good enough to trick him. "I was joking about the amnesia pills. What the hell did you slip in my drink?" she demanded.

"The amnesia pills, they're not a joke. My own recipe, with a touch of denial and a dash of Retcon. Wake up tomorrow morning, you'll have forgotten everything about Torchwood. Worse still, you'll have forgotten me, which is kind of tragic." The words were light, but the tone in which he said them wasn't. Gwen stood up and grabbed her jacket, leaving the pub without thinking about it twice. Jack followed her out, just as expected. "Don't think you can fight it by staying awake. I mixed in a little bit of sedative too."

"You're a real bastard, you know that?" she shot back in fake-anger.

"Language!" he scolded her. "Nice knowing you, Gwen Cooper."

"I won't forget about Torchwood so easily. We'll see each other again, _Captain_." Perhaps she shouldn't have said that, but it was too late. Gwen ran back home right after, wanting to be in bed before the sedative kicked in. Rhys was sleeping when she arrived. The brunette turned on her computer — God, it was old — and opened a document, which she titled "Torchwood". This time, however, she didn't write anything relevant in it. She didn't know who had hacked her computer the first time, and she decided it wasn't important.

 **Nice try. Give my regards to the team.**

Teasing the team so much might have been a bad idea, but she couldn't help it. It was just so much _fun_. The brunette knew this meant someone might break in, in the next twenty-four hours, and try to figure out whether she'd written the intel in a notebook or something, which she wouldn't do. The potential break-in didn't matter so much, as long as it was done by her would-be coworkers. Gwen saved the document, and turned off her computer. Yawning, she went to bed, not bothering the change clothes.

The sedative took over immediately.

* * *

Gwen was woken up by the scent of coffee and a kiss on her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open, expecting to find her husband there. That's what she found, all right. Her eyes went from Rhys to the coffee mug. And she did a double take. Rhys was simply so _young_. What was happening? "Rhys?" she asked, and almost jumped at the sound of her own voice. She sounded so _young_. Working at Torchwood had some serious implications, but now she was scared, for her husband, her daughter, and herself.

Rhys noticed her strange reaction, and, of course, associated it to alcohol. "Did you get pissed?" Gwen blinked. She felt confused, a bit scared, but not hungover. What had happened? And, most importantly, _when_ had it happened? The last thing she remembered was… Actually, those memories were fuzzy. She looked down on herself and saw the typical clothes she wore back when she was in her twenties. Could this be…? She looked at her hands. For a moment, she felt like she was stuck in a stranger's body. Could this be real? Was she stuck in her younger self's body? "Gwen?" Rhys repeated.

"Sorry," she apologised, and shook her head. "No, I didn't get pissed. What time is it?"

"Seven thirty. You said you were working late last night," he told her, which simply left Gwen confused. Where was she working, exactly? Was this when she was still with the police? Maybe it was when she'd first met Torchwood... Of course! She had returned to her younger body around the time when she first met the team, and she was Retconned. It would explain why her last memories of the future-past were so fuzzy, and why she didn't remember waking up in this body in the first place. Unless she was simply imagining stuff and she really had just woken up in her younger body? Well, now she was confused.

"Yeah. Yeah, I was. Rhys, love, what date is it?" She knew he might suspect her again of getting pissed, but she needed to know.

"September 9th," he answered, confused. "You got pissed."

Gwen was too busy thinking about what that meant to correct that last erroneous statement. "2007?" she asked. If the answer was yes, then her theory was proved, somewhat.

"Yeah… Are you sure you can work today?" Great, now she'd worried him. Gwen faked a smile.

"Of course. I have to work another late shift tonight but tomorrow, I'm taking you out for lunch," she promised, knowing dinner might be a little complicated due to the comet that would crash on the outskirts of Cardiff at night. Plus, Rhys had a lunch break long enough for them to take their time. She brought her would-be husband close to her and kissed him. She took the coffee mug and drank it as Rhys left for work.

Once she was done with the coffee, she picked the clothes she would wear that day, and slipped to the bathroom, only to let everything fall to the ground as soon as she spotted her face on the mirror. She had already thought she was trapped in her younger body, but this was too much. _Seeing_ it was a lot different than _knowing_ it. The brunette grabbed the edge of the sink, trying not to fall to the ground in shock as well.

That's when her memories came back.

 _The brunette closed her eyes, as her cells dematerialised one by one until…_

 _The first thing she felt was the rain._

 _Why the hell was she out in the rain, wearing a PC uniform, surveilling a crime scene?_

 _Andy was wearing his usual police uniform and he… he was young. He looked young again, in his late twenties. And judging by what was going on around her, she was, at the very latest, in September 2007, when she was still working for the police._

 _The rain stopped as soon as Suzie's hand went underneath the dead man's head. The lights the police had placed around the body shone brighter, and a few seconds later, the young man gasped back to life, panicking as soon as he opened his eyes. He struggled, trying to breathe, and he started to speak in that panicked way, characteristic of everyone who's gone through a traumatic event._

 _The Weevil hadn't noticed her just yet, and Gwen approached him slowly._

 _Ianto, wearing a suit, as usual, stepped past the beaded curtains, and entered her field of vision, a cup of coffee in his hand._

 _She couldn't help but be amazed by the sight of the long-lost Hub. She was even glad to see the Doctor's hand in its usual encasing. Gwen had to bite back her smile, though, and ignore her fond memories. It was hard. Everything was so amazing, and so surreal. She could see the armoury from the entrance as well. Behind her, the cogwheel returned to its place and a metal grill shut behind her. Gwen didn't pay any attention to it, as she admired her surroundings. How she had missed this place._

 _"Well, that's tough shit. 'Cos if you let me go, then I have a duty. I can tell them what you've got, 'cos that glove could help us," she warned him, her voice stronger than it had been the first time 'round. She had years of work experience and was confident in her abilities. She wanted to make sure Jack believed she would follow through with her threat, even though now she wouldn't even consider it._

 _"I thought you said bringing people back from the dead was wrong." When she didn't reply, Jack added, "You can only do that if you remember." At her confused look, he added, "How's your drink?"_

Gwen struggled to breathe. This was real. This was bloody real. She tried calming herself, breathing deeply. She spent at least ten minutes there, pulling herself together. She'd already done it once, why was it so hard to do it again? Perhaps because the first time, the situation had demanded it. She couldn't let Andy and the rest of the police staff think she had gone bonkers. But now she was alone, with nothing and no one to help her as she struggled to accept her second chance at life.

Finally, the brunette calmed down, enough to make a decision. She had bothered Torchwood enough, but there was still one little job to do today. She would go to work as usual, but as soon as she would be let out, she would return to the Hub, and try to stop Suzie from leaving, just like last time. No weapons on her, just her acting abilities and her knowledge. Hopefully, she would ramble like last time, and Jack would have the time to intervene.

Once she'd figured out what she was going to do, Gwen got ready to work, her insides churning at the thought of what would happen that night.

* * *

It was around four in the morning when Gwen arrived at the Millenium Centre. She strolled about, slowly, as if trying to figure out why she felt there was something strange going on in this place. She had patiently waited all night for this moment, and now it was time. Suzie would come out at any minute, and Gwen would have to be ready. The street was deserted, but there were still cars that drove by every now and then. The brunette was slightly nervous. If she got something wrong, Suzie would kill her and leave. Good thing she had plenty of time to plan it all earlier, when she patiently waited for the right time to come and take a stroll.

Suzie stepped out from behind the Water Tower, and Gwen approached her slowly. The Torchwood agent was also making her way towards the PC. Finally, the young woman came out of the shadows. "Hello again. You were right. You told Jack we should liaise with the police. I was the only one who bothered. So I was the only one who saw the report." The brunette didn't move while Suzie took out the murder weapon — the Life Knife, as Ianto would dub it later. Gwen fake-gasped, hoping it seemed real enough. "They got a good likeness."

"I'm arresting you for…" she trailed off, the words empty. She wouldn't arrest Suzie. She wouldn't have time to. "How do I know you?" she asked, playing dumb. She had decided to go with the old conversation, because that way Suzie would not have time to shoot her, and she just might be offered the job at Torchwood as well.

"I thought you might have seen it. And that can trip the amnesia, just one specific image, if you're clever. He said you were good. Anyway. It's not much good now, I can't really. But you're gonna put up a fight. So I've got… er, hold on. Sorry." Suzie looked like she was on the verge of tears. And still, the woman took her time, searching for the gun hidden in her bag. Gwen did her best to stay where she was, and not engage Suzie in a fight. _Just let it happen,_ she thought. _It worked once, it will work again._ "There. That's better."

"Put it down," Gwen ordered her, but Suzie didn't heed her words. Instead, she started rambling.

"You had to come back." Gwen repeated her order once more, but the rogue agent continued, "You're the only one who can make the link. Well, the only one in public. Torchwood's going to find out by morning, but I'll be gone. I don't know where. Far away. What am I going to do? I loved this job. I _really_ loved it. And now I've got to run. Oh, Christ. How can you do any other job after this one?"

"Please, put down the gun." When that didn't work — just as expected —, she tried something else. "What job? Tell me about your job."

"It gets _inside_ you. You do this job for long enough, and you end up thinking, how come we get all the Weevils and bollocks and shit? Is that what alien life is? Filth? But maybe there's better stuff out there, brilliant stuff, beautiful stuff. Just they don't come here. This planet's so dirty, that's all we get. The shit." When the PC didn't say anything, the woman added, "I wish I could forget."

"Why did you kill those people?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer. She had to keep Suzie talking, and buy Jack time.

"For the glove. I needed the bodies. That's how it works, violent deaths. And it was so easy. To bring them back, I'd just position myself behind the head, so they'd never see me twice," she explained.

"You killed three people."

"It was the only way," she defended herself. "The more I use the glove, the more I control it."

This conversation was reaching its end, but Gwen found a little something she could use there. "What glove? What are you talking about? What does it do?" She stayed very still. This Suzie was nothing like the one she'd brought back earlier — well, later, whatever — on. One mistake she wasn't planning on repeating, if she could. Or at least, she wouldn't invite her on a road-trip to see her father. _That_ had nearly been her downfall.

"If I can get enough practice, then think what the glove could do. If I could get it to work all the time, on anything, beyond the two minutes, if it could work permanently, it could resurrect. Resurrection on demand for the whole world, isn't that good? Isn't it, though? Well, that's what I've been working for, all day and all night. The rest of them go swanning about, but I'm working." Gwen could see through the perception filter, just like Suzie. She noticed Jack coming up through the invisible lift, standing just between the two of them, and she prepared herself for what was coming. "You've got to get inside this stuff. Surrender yourself to it. I did, with the knife and the glove, and that's why the perception filter isn't gonna work on me." Without hesitating, she turned around and shot Jack in the head, execution style. Gwen gasped as his body spread out on the pavement. It had been so long since she'd last seen him die, she'd forgotten what it was like. She was surprised at how she felt, knowing he would come back to life anyway.

"What have you done?" Gwen demanded. "You've gone too far, Suzie Costello."

This time, it was the rogue agent who stared at her in surprise. "You remember? I was never planning on letting you go, but now…" She pointed her gun at Gwen. "Now I've really got no choice."

"Wait," Gwen held her hands up. "Just… just tell me one thing." She hoped this would work. She should've stuck to the plan. "Aren't there other ways to test the glove? You didn't have to kill them all. Please, I just want to understand."

"I already told you, violent deaths. Besides, the glove works better when the knife is used." She knew that already, but it bought Jack time anyway. Suzie prepared herself to pull the trigger. "I'm sorry. I've got to. I've got to," she repeated, as if trying to convince herself. She hadn't hesitated to kill Jack, but here she was, hesitant to kill _her_. Jack was her coworker, her boss, her _friend_. She was but a stranger.

"Please, don't do this. You don't have to," she tried to convince her, just as Jack stood up behind Suzie, a bloody big hole in his forehead. Gwen did her best to pretend she hadn't seen him, but it was hard. After all, you don't see _that_ every day. A gunshot wound closing itself.

"I do," Suzie replied, and was about to pull the trigger when Jack spoke up.

"Put down the gun." Suzie's hand shook as she lowered her arm, turning to see her boss, _alive_. Fear spread across her features as the hole on Jack's forehead closed up for good. Gwen did her best to pretend she was shocked, even though Jack was too focused on Suzie to properly look at the PC. "Suzie, it's over. Now come with me." He offered her his hand.

The rogue agent didn't reply. She glanced at Gwen, her eyes hardened, and brought the barrel of her gun to her chin and pulled the trigger. Gwen had seen so many deaths in her lifetime, yet Suzie's suicide was one that would never leave her mind. It had never quite faded away the first time, and now she was sure it never would. Jack's face was filled with shock, grief and guilt. He glanced at Suzie's corpse, blood spreading all over the pavement.

Finally, Gwen worked up the courage to say two words, in a shaky voice she didn't quite have to fake. "I remember."

* * *

Gwen and Jack were standing on the roof of the Millenium Centre, admiring the city of Cardiff at dawn. Yet, despite the beautiful sight in front of her, Gwen didn't find it in her to smile or to even think about it. She had never thought reliving Suzie's suicide would be this painful. Despite everything Suzie had done to her — everything she _would_ do —, the brunette felt like this could have been avoided. And maybe it could have. But it was too late to change things now.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced at the immortal man, who was standing next to her, and she knew she would have to bring this up eventually. If she didn't, he might suspect her of knowing it beforehand. And that would not end well. "You can't die, can you?"

"No, I can't," he confirmed.

"How is that possible?"

"Something happened to me a while back. Long story and far away. But I _was_ killed, and then I was brought back to life. And ever since then, I can't die. I don't know how. One day I'll find a doctor, the right sort of doctor, and maybe he can explain it, but until then…" he trailed off, and Gwen knew exactly what he wanted to say.

"Until then, you can't die. Nothing kills you."

"Well, it kind of freaks people out, so, best if you don't say anything." It might freak some people out, but his condition is a blessing to every sadistic person out there. Gwen swallowed, pondering on what her next words would be.

"You'd wipe their memory anyway, with that amnesia pill of yours. You'd wipe _my_ memory again," she added. Of course, she wasn't supposed to know he would offer her a job, if he would do it at all. But things were running their course for now. Surely that meant he was about to offer her the job?

"Why would I do that?" he asked. "You'd remember anyway. You said it yourself. Besides, Torchwood's got a vacancy. Job going spare. Do you want it?"

So she hadn't fucked up, then. Good to know. The first time she had hesitated, unsure of whether she would fit in this world, this crazy, demented world. And it had become such an important part of her life that she had rebuilt in when she felt she couldn't carry on. The Earth needed Torchwood's help, and just maybe, this time, she _would_ be able to deal with everything that was going to happen. "Yeah. I do, yes."

Finally, after all these years, Gwen Cooper was home.


End file.
